Love Inspired Suspense December 2013 Bundle: Christmas Cover-Up\Force of Nature\Yuletide Jeopardy\Wilderness Peril (66 page)

Kemp nodded. “It was just bad timing on his part. I figured I'd delay him a few days before leaving. But then we started finding flecks of gold. We're this close—” he held his forefinger near his thumb “—to striking it rich.”

Rick leaned against the chair back. The man's face was flushed, sweat beading his brow. “You have gold fever. You're blinded by it now. So you figure you'll just delay us along with Aiden?”

Kemp clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, smiling. “I remember when my grandfather got gold fever—it was infectious, contagious. People don't usually find big nuggets in Alaska. Anything over a few ounces isn't common. But then he found a nugget weighing in at thirty troy ounces. Before he died and left the claim to me, my grandfather took all the money from the gold and invested in the camp and the heavy equipment needed to dig out the rest. I made the mistake of opening my mouth, but I had no choice. In the end, I'm glad I had the claim to use as leverage.”

“I don't get it. Why do you owe someone money when you have a whole gold claim?” Rick asked.

A contemplative look came across Kemp's face, then he finally answered. “Gold mining is always going to have its risks. Long hours of hard, manual labor with no guarantees. My father didn't share my grandfather's obsession and started a restaurant business before I was born. I grew up learning that business and made it my own. I spent a few summers with my grandfather, but I'd nearly forgotten about this place. At least when I needed it, it was still here and waiting for me.”

Rick studied the man. He was a salesman; no doubt there. Had sold the guy he owed with the idea that he'd be able to mine enough gold to pay him back. Rick didn't know how much he owed, but he could guess it had to be a large sum.

“The men have already seen the gold for themselves.” Kemp grinned. “All of them have gold fever now.”

Kemp had counted on that reaction.

“And no one is going to stand in their way,” Rick said.

“Now you understand. By the time I found out your brother was expecting you, the damage was done. I couldn't let him go. I don't need anyone sniffing around, asking questions or causing trouble. The problem is the men here don't exactly answer to me. They answer to the guy I owe. They didn't kill you, because, well, I convinced them it wouldn't be in their best interest. Don't make me change my mind on that.”

“Just how long do you think you can keep us here before someone comes in search of us?”

Kemp shrugged. “Let them come. You're not here. We never saw you.”

Rick believed the guy had it in him to persuade these men to do whatever he wanted, but he still wasn't sure why he'd kept them alive. They knew too much and could use that against him. “You mentioned needing something from us. What is it?”

“Work the claim with us and in a few days, when I've paid back what I owe, you can see your brother and all of you leave here richer. Just take me with you.”

Yeah, right. Rick didn't believe Kemp's story. They were as good as dead any way you looked at it. What reason would he have to let them live when they could cause so much trouble for him? The way the guy looked at Shay...

The airplane.

He needed a mechanic to fix it so he could fly it out. Idiot. If he weren't close to exhaustion, he would have realized that before. Kemp needed Shay for that—that was why they were here. Aiden had told these men far too much, putting Shay's life at stake. Kemp wanted to work the claim, find the gold and then make his great escape. Rick doubted he even intended to pay back the man he owed.

And once the plane was repaired, he'd leave Rick and Shay behind to face certain death at the hands of these cutthroats.

“Do we have a deal?” the snake asked.

Rick had forgotten he'd been offered one and hesitated.

“Doesn't sound like you've given us much choice,” Shay said, speaking up for the first time since entering the office.

“You have a choice. It's either work with me or die.”

“Let me get this straight,” Rick said. “You've abducted us and conscripted us into slaving away at your gold mine, and any attempts at escape are on pain of death.”

The guy leaned forward, a sinister grin across his face. “Yes.”

NINE

“T
he point is, you're not free to leave. Act like you're worth something around here, and I can convince the others to leave you alone.”

Shay watched the exchange between Rick and Kemp. How long did the guy plan to hold them? And how did he plan to do it? If they were made to work, he couldn't keep them tied up the whole time. How long would it take before Connor became concerned, and if he even found them, would that be too late? Like Kemp already said, he might come looking, but none of the henchmen would admit they were here.

Uncertainty bombarded her.

Shay lifted her wrists to get Kemp's attention. “We can't work like this.”

He moved around to the front of the desk and sat on the edge. “Now that's more like it. You see my dilemma, don't you? My hands are tied, too—I can't let you leave until we've struck gold and settled my debts.”

“And then what?” Shay almost wished she hadn't asked, but it was better knowing the answer than going crazy wondering. “You'll just let us go?”

“Something like that—if you behave and don't make any trouble.” He scratched his head, appearing to consider his next words. “I'll need that plane fixed, too, without letting them know my plans. If they find out, then all bets are off. Your lives, my life—they're all forfeit.”

“I'll need my tools. They were in the Jeep.”

“There are plenty of tools here for fixing the equipment. Depending on what went wrong, if you can't make them work, we'll go back to the Jeep to get your things.”

“Not just the tools. The Jeep also had the part I brought to fix what we think is wrong.”

Kemp eyed her as though trying to read the truth. “I'll send Joey to bring back what he can find in the Jeep. Hopefully that'll include what you need without me having to be specific.”

“You think they don't already know what you're planning?” Rick ground out the words.

“They suspect, which is why they walk around with the guns. They still have to follow most of my orders since I'm the only one who knows how to extract the gold. But I'm under guard, too, which makes it all a little awkward, being in charge and under guard.”

He removed the plastic ties around Shay's wrists but left Rick's on. His gaze pierced Shay's. “Try anything and your friend here gets hurt. He'll suffer before he dies. Any wrong moves from either of you and you'll be locked away like the other one. You won't see each other again. Am I clear? There's no law here to keep them in line. There's only me and their boss. Don't give them a reason to hurt you.”

Shay frowned. The man knew how to use leverage effectively. Shay watched Rick's jaw working, the pulse at his temple beating as he exerted effort to hold in his displeasure. She eyed Kemp. If Rick could pin him down, she could probably get the weapon. But they couldn't simply walk out of the building with the gun-toting men standing on the porch and all around the camp. Kemp had made that all too clear. From what she'd overheard from Joey and his cohort on the trip to the mine, she got the feeling that the men were getting bored just waiting for an excuse to blow someone away.

Gunfire in rapid succession drove home that thought. Kemp grabbed the gun off the desk—splintering Shay's idea to grab it herself—and bolted for the door, forgetting about his accidental prisoners.

“What's going on?” he yelled at the guards he'd turned into unlikely miners.

He stepped through and the door closed behind him, leaving Shay and Rick alone. “Hurry, untie me,” Rick said.

Shay whipped around the desk and opened the drawer to find something to cut Rick free. Kemp had taken the knife he'd used to cut her ties off.

“Never mind—I hear someone coming. Get over here. Shay. Now.”

She glanced up to see the alarm in his eyes, along with overwhelming concern for her. “If I can just grab something to free—”

The door swung open and in walked Kemp. When he saw where she stood, his face took on a whole new look that made Shay wish she'd done as Rick had asked. He glared at Shay. She stood frozen, her hand on his open desk drawer. She couldn't move under his visual assault.

“See, now, this is what I'm talking about. I thought we had an agreement.” He stomped around the desk and yanked her arm away from the drawer.

She let it go with a yelp.

“Leave her alone.” Rick's voice was a low growl. “I asked her to untie me. Thought you'd forgotten about me, that's all.”

Shay got the sense that he was ready to pounce over the top of the desk and take the man down, even with his wrists still bound, if Kemp tried to hurt her.

Kemp must have sensed it, too, because he released her. “I'll untie you as soon as I march you out to see what I meant when I said tensions are running high. Either of you got any medical experience? Know how to stop a man from bleeding to death?”

At the mention of blood, Shay felt hers drain from her face. She watched Rick's features pale as well, and not because he hadn't seen enough blood in his life. Probably because he didn't like to see those he wanted to protect—her and Aiden—caught in the middle of this.

Kemp waved Rick's gun at them. “Let's go.”

Someone had been shot. Rick probably knew what to do, considering his military training. But would he help these people?

Shay trudged around the desk and opened the door for Rick. When he passed her, all she could think was that if he were alone, and she wasn't here to stand in his way or rein him in, he'd probably have made his way free already and found Aiden. He'd be willing to risk getting shot. But as it stood, he was biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity to get them out before this whole situation turned on them. Shay didn't believe the desperate, crazy man who wasn't really in charge. She doubted Rick believed the man, either. He wouldn't simply let them walk away.

The fact was obvious considering his
own
plans didn't include walking away. No. He planned to fly out of this and leave them all behind. Kemp kept the firearm at his side pointed at the earth as he walked next to them, and the other two, Joey and his partner, accompanied them as they followed Kemp through the mining camp.

She counted five buildings in all. A main house, which might or might not have a kitchen and bedrooms. What looked like a bunkhouse, a storage building and two more buildings, one that could pass for a cabin with living quarters. That was her best guess without seeing inside.

Not a large operation, but not a recreational mining camp either, as far as she could tell. She knew little about modern-day gold mining. But one thing she did know, these men meant to dig up gold. What she couldn't figure was why. If what Kemp said was true and he owed someone money, the camp itself was worth a small fortune if you counted the equipment. Add to that the gold that had already been found and the potential of more to come. Why not sell it?

Maybe he'd already tried.

As they approached the building next to the bunkhouse, a man's screams and moans could be heard. The sound wrapped around her guts and squeezed. Soon enough, two men appeared from behind the building dragging another injured man, blood oozing from a gunshot wound in his leg.

“What happened?” Rick asked.

“A couple of the men have been at odds since we arrived. I guess they were playing Russian roulette or chicken. I don't know.” Kemp's voice was strained. “All I know is that we're shorthanded on men already and can't spare this one, even if he is an idiot to play around with loaded guns. We need to get at the gold before the weather turns bad in more ways than one.”

He eyed Rick. “Your brother told me you both served in the U.S. Marines. Can you help? Know what to do here?”

Rick flinched. “He needs a doctor.”

“He won't get one in time. Not out here. You gonna watch him die?”

“Are you telling me you've got all this firepower around and you don't have anyone who knows how to treat wounds? Not to mention other potential accidents?”

“Not anymore.” Kemp's eyes went brutal.

What did that mean? Had someone escaped or been killed?

“And no one else who might have a clue about what they're doing is willing to step up to the plate,” Kemp added. “Stand out in the crowd.”

Shaking his head, Rick held up his wrists. “Not much I can do like this.”

“You have a point.” Kemp pulled out the knife and cut the ties.

“I need your medical kit. Survival kit. Something. Tell me you at least have one of those.”

“Of course we do.” Kemp yelled at one of his guards to take the injured man inside and find the kit.

Shay followed Kemp and Rick inside, where they shoved a couple of tables together and laid the man on the hard surface. The room was messy with boxes and supplies and smelled like tobacco smoke and booze. Like a place where the men hung out to play cards.

The injured man continued to moan, his face losing color. Blood was quickly spreading along the table and onto the floor. Shay shrank into a dark corner—this was out of her league, not to mention that the sight of the blood made her weak and dizzy. She could serve Rick better by staying out of the way and out of trouble.

While waiting on the medical kit, Rick tied off the guy's leg with a tourniquet, then ripped his pants to expose the wound. A man who looked a little too young to be in with this brutal group held the briefcase-size kit out to Rick. He searched through until he found what he needed.

Shay couldn't stand to look, so she shut her eyes. That only seemed to magnify the man's grunts of pain and curses as Rick worked. She wished Kemp would let her leave. But this was meant to be seared into her thoughts so she'd remember what could happen to her should she try to leave.

What if the man didn't survive? Would Rick pay the price?

With that, Shay realized her own predicament—what if she couldn't fix the plane? What if there was more wrong than could be fixed with a simple part replacement?

Any direction her thoughts turned only led her to every death-defying risk they faced. Shay forced her eyes open and watched Rick press gauze over the wound and tape it in place.

“The Combat Gauze will control the bleeding,” he said, “until you can get him to a doctor, which I am
not.
He needs an IV with fluids. Could need a blood transfusion, too.”

Kemp argued with the other men in the room about what to do with the injured man and the one who shot him. Rick eased back and away from the quarrel. His gaze slid to Shay. At that moment she knew he'd never lost track of her—even with all the chaos, he'd somehow always known where she was. That awareness sent warmth through her and an insane sense of security. She could almost imagine that he'd always been in control. That he was in control even now.

But she wouldn't lie to herself.

Still, the way he'd handled treating the wounded man under the pressure spiked her admiration. The urge to run to him, hoping he'd wrap her in his arms, engulfed her. But she didn't want to feel the pain that came with counting on someone. Trusting someone. She couldn't let herself feel this way about anyone—especially him.

Remember...remember when he almost killed you, his finger against the trigger guard before he realized what he was doing.

Shay stepped back, deeper into the corner.

Hurt skated across his dark gunmetal grays.

* * *

Funny how the small, subtle step back she'd taken pierced like shrapnel. What was that about? Why'd she do it? Why'd he care? She made him think she didn't look at him any differently than she viewed the rest of them here, the herd of thugs in the room.

What are you doing, man?

He couldn't let her get to him like that. Not if he wanted to protect her. Get her to safety. He needed to keep his thoughts on target.

The shouting grew louder. If this turned nasty, he needed a way out, and fast.

Rick clenched his fists, squeezing them until they hurt. While these men were distracted by the injured one—a man Rick figured would die sooner rather than later if they didn't get him more intensive medical attention—he could catch them off guard. Take one of their weapons...but he knew all too well the fight that would then ensue.

The guarantee of more to be injured, including Shay.

Even if they made it out alive, where was his brother being kept? He needed to rescue him, too.

Clench fist. Relax. Clench. Relax.

Shay suddenly started toward him, gliding across the room in stealth mode. His hopes that no one would notice her were quickly dashed. The shouting fell silent. Kemp, startled by Shay moving to Rick's side, acted as if he finally remembered he had guests. Or prisoners.

“Deal with it,” he said to the others, gesturing to the wounded man, who had fallen unconscious.

Rick sent up a silent prayer for the man. He had been trained to deal with this and had done the best he could with what he'd been given. That and prayer were all he had to give.

When Shay bumped up against Rick, he wanted to slip his arm around her waist and tug her close to reassure her. Or maybe, if he was honest, to reassure himself.

But not with Kemp watching.

The man left the others to take care of their wounded and focused on Rick and Shay. But before he could speak, Shay took a step toward him. “We haven't eaten anything since yesterday. If we're going to stay and work, can we get some sleep and something to eat?”

Really?
Rick should have thought of that, but he didn't much feel like negotiating with this man or even suggesting that he had any intention of agreeing to his deal. On the other hand, Kemp would more likely acquiesce to Shay's request, coming from her, even though Rick had demonstrated he was willing to cooperate by showing these men how to use their simple medical kit. Or had that been simply a test? More than likely it had been.